


Halloween Challenge 2016

by ImagineBeatles



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Halloween Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15537522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeatles/pseuds/ImagineBeatles
Summary: One-shots written for Halloween. Several pairings





	1. Day 1. My Pretty French Maid

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr in 2016

Paul hadn’t been able to wait until Halloween would finally come again. Ever since he had John had started whatever it was they had, he had always looked forward to Halloween, as he could use the holiday to his advantage.  He had always loved dressing-up. Had done so since he had been little, taking his mother’s clothes and dress up as a nurse himself, or try on his father’s suits. When he had gotten his first school uniform, he had been over the moon, until he realised how annoying and uncomfortable they were. And after wearing it for a week, the magic was sort of lost. He had dressed up as Elvis, Buddy Holly, James Dean, a cop, a cowboy and an Indian (from when he’d play cowboys and Indians when he had been little) a king and much more. Since the first Halloween he had John had shared together since they had become more than friends, he had dressed up for him. But this year he wanted to take it a little further. A little more… taboo. Sexy. If only John would like it.

At least there was one good thing that came with being a Beatle and that was that he was able to get anything, no questions asked, which was perfect for occasions like this one. He doubted he would ever have done this if he had had to get the costume himself. He fixed himself in front of the large mirror in his and John’s hotel room. He had locked the door to make sure no one would walk in on them when he was looking like this. That would be too embarrassing, but right now Paul wondered if he could feel more embarrassed than he already was. He didn’t look bad, really. It was just really weird to see himself in… in something as feminine as this. John’d better not laugh at him.

He took a deep breath and made a quick turn. He blushed as he watched the material of the skirt sweep up into the  air, showing the thighs and gathers he was wearing beneath it. Maybe he could still back out?

          There was a knock on the door and Paul jumped a little. He had almost forgotten that he had told John to wait for him in the bathroom. When he thought about it, it had been a miracle almost that John hadn’t started to complain about being locked in the bathroom sooner. Perhaps he was as nervous as he was? Paul nodded at himself in the mirror and told his reflection he looked good and John would be an idiot not to think the same way. His fingers were trembling as he reached for the doorknob and turned it. He quickly pulled the door open, figuring it was best to get this over quickly, like removing a band-aid.

It remained quiet in the room and Paul, who had closed his eyes in fear, didn’t dare to speak. He simply stood there for a while, holding his breath and holding onto the doorknob as he waited for John to say something. Or start laughing at him. He tensed up as he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Paulie?” John’s voice sounded closer to him than Paul had anticipated, and he couldn’t figure out if that was a bad or a good thing. He slowly creaked open an eye and met John’s wide, dilated ones. His mouth hung slack and his eyes left his to roam over his figure, taking all of him in as Paul waited for him to continue what he wanted to say.

“You’re so pretty.” The older man nearly gasped and Paul giggled in relief. John liked it. John actually liked it. Thank god!

          John let his eyes roam over Paul’s body. He really did look pretty, especially now he had relaxed and was giggling, all the tension wiped from his pretty face. What Paul was wearing wasn’t even as smutty as John had first imagined when Paul had  told him what he wanted to do. But it was even better. The entire dress was black, with only at the end of the skirt some white lace. The apron he was wearing wasn’t much of an apron, as it was far too small and it was tucked slightly to the side, but the edges were covered with that same white lace and there was a bow on top of it. The dress itself went all the way up to the boy’s neck, but material above the breast area was see through and made out of black lace, giving John to urge to tear it. It went all the way down Paul’s arms as a sleeve. Beneath the skirt John could see he was wearing the regular fishnet stockings and John couldn’t wait to lift up his skirt to see what he was wearing beneath it. But first…

John let his fingers move up to Paul’s face and caressed his cheek, as he lifted up his face to meet his eyes. His other hand travelled to the back of Paul’s neck and his fingers played lightly with his soft hair as he leaned in and captured Paul’s lips with his own, dragging a soft moan from other other boy’s  throat. The sound went straight down to his crotch, making John groan in turn. He took a step closer to Paul and let his hand slide down to take a hold of Paul’s waist and gently push him in the direction of the bed. Paul went with him obediently, giving into John and kissing him back. His eyes fluttered close and John could feel his long eyelashes caress his cheekbone.

When they reached the bed, John tugged Paul down onto the bed, breaking the kiss. The material of Paul’s dress ruffled as he sat down and John had to take a deep breath to control himself. He was going to enjoy this, seeing as this might be the only time he got to see Paul like this. He licked his lips and could taste Paul’s lipstick on his mouth. Looking down he grinned when he saw Paul looking up at him expectantly. His red lipstick was still on his lips, but there was a light stripe around the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t wait to see those luscious plump and now extremely red lips wrapped around his hard cock. This was going to be perfect.

Apart from lipstick, Paul was also wearing eye-liner, which accentuated his gorgeous doe eyes and some mascara which made his eyelashes look even thicker and longer. He had applied some grey eye-shadow and his cheeks had a light blush on them, but that could also have been from the excitement he was most likely feeling. Nonetheless, he looked absolutely stunning and John couldn’t take his eyes off him. Not even when Paul parted his legs and curled them around his, pulling him a little closer with a wink.

“God dammit, Macca. I wish I could see you like this every day.” John breathed, letting his fingers roam gently through the boy’s long hair. Paul’s eyes fluttered close and he let out a light moan at the feeling, which made John feel weak in the knees. He took another deep breath and reached for Paul’s chin, making him look straight at his crotch.

“Oh darling, look at what you’re doing to me.” He breathed heavily as he watched Paul’s eyes dilate at the sight before him. His lips parted slightly and when he tried to look back up at John, the older man shook his head and took a firm hold of Paul’s hand, guiding it to his erection, which was pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans. A soft whimper escaped Paul’s lips when his fingers graced the outline of his cock, before doing finally what John wanted him to do. He rubbed him through his trousers as his other hand came up as well to undo his belt and zipper. He dragged it down every so slowly, making John hear every single sound.

“That’s a good girl. Let’s see what that pretty mouth of yours is actually good for, eh?” Paul’s hand flexed as the word girl reached his ears, giving John a firm squeeze and pulling the zipper all the way down in one go. John swallowed down a moan, before he smirked down at the younger man.

Paul’s into that, is he? Lucky me, John thought. He tightened his fingers in the boy’s hair and pulled hard, making Paul look up at him with a whine.

“Open up, luv.” He spoke and Paul obliged right away, opening his mouth in the shape of a perfect red O as he waited for John’s next move. “Good girl.” Paul visibly shuddered at the praise, making John chuckle.

“Do you want it?” John asked, licking his own lips as he moved his now free hand to his leaking erection, now only contained by his underwear. John could see Paul trying to follow his hands, even if the angle was awkward for him. He whined again as John slipped his hand into his pants and pulled out his dick. It was already hard and the tip was shiny from the precum that was already dripping from the slit. He gave himself a few rough strokes, before grabbing himself by the base and pointing the head in the direction of Paul’s still open mouth.

“Beg for it.” John ordered, holding it a mere inch from Paul’s pretty red lips and bassist wiggled impatiently on the bed, but kept his pretty eyes and mouth open.

“P-please… sir?” He asked nicely, unsure what way John wanted to be addressed. When John nodded and tugged at his hair again, he knew he had done well. “Please, sir. Please let me suck your cock. I want it so badly, sir.”

“Naughty girl, aren’t you?” John teased, angling his hips up and letting the head of his cock slide teasingly over Paul’s lips, without entering.

“Yes, sir. I’m a naughty girl.” Paul answered obediently and John couldn’t take it anymore. Without any further warning he thrusted his hips forward and let the head of his cock slide into Paul’s mouth, into that warm welcome velvety hole that he knew so well. Paul’s eyes went wide at the unexpected movement, but he tried his best to take it. He relaxed his jaw and opened up wide for John, and swallowed as he felt the head slide into his throat to keep himself from gagging. John groaned at the feeling, savouring the feel of Paul’s throat constricting around him in an attempt to accommodate him. He tangled both his hands in Paul’s hair and held him tightly firmly in place as he started to lightly thrust in and out of his mouth.

Looking down, he sighed at the gorgeous sight before him. Paul was still looking up at him, his eyes dark and wide as lust started to take over. He had his mouth still wide open, but as John moved one of his hands to caress his face, he closed his mouth and wrapped his lips tightly around the shaft of John’s cock, which was slowly moving in and out of his mouth. John groaned at the sight and before he could refrain himself, he had pushed into Paul’s mouth harshly, making him take every inch so suddenly that Paul could do nothing else but gag.

“Fuck… baby. Yes, that’s it.” John moaned, watching as Paul continued to gag, gurgling as he tried to breath, spit dripping down the corners of his mouth. He was blinking rapidly, trying to get the tears out of his eyes, without actually looking away from John. He was trying so hard for him, John took pity on him and pulled out. He took Paul’s chin between his fingers and made him look up at him, as he gently wiped the spit away.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you Macca? Trying so hard for me. You should see yourself right now. So eager. So obedient. So slutty. My pretty maid. Come on, then. Clean my cock.” John said, almost growling as he looked Paul straight in the eye, watching every little change of emotion at his words, watching as Paul became needier and needier, wanting more. He nodded, but when he reached up with his hands to take the other man’s dick in his hand, John patted his hands away. Paul looked up in confusion.

“Ah ah…” John tutted, “Only your mouth.” Nodding once more, Paul folded his hands on his lap so John could see where they were as he leaned in and licked at the head of John’s cock, all the way keeping eye contact with him. John groaned and his fingers tightened even more in Paul’s hair, nearly pulling some out, and Paul grinned smugly at himself and let the tip rest on his tongue as he moved a little closer.

          When he was close enough, he closed his eyes and wrapped his ruby lips around the head and suckled John’s cock into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the head and licked into the slit as he took more and more, listening closely to figure out what made John moan and groan and slowly lose control.

“Oh yes… So perfect. Such a perfect mouth. Come on, fucking suck me already. Show me what you’re good for, you filthy slut.” John groaned. Paul opened his eyes to look up at him. John’s eyes had fallen closed and judging from his face he was in pure bliss. He hollowed out his cheeks, and sucked hard, as if he was drinking from a straw. For a second, John’s knees wobbled, but the older man managed to get a hold of himself and merely uttered some more obscenities.

“Shit… So good. Such a good girl, you are. All for me. You like this, don’t you? Sucking my cock. Fuck, I bet you could do this all day if I asked you to. Oh yes, so perfect. Take my cock, Paul. Suck it like you mean it.” John rambled and Paul hummed around John’s cock and took him just that little bit deeper, letting him slide into his throat and holding him there, until John started tugging frantically at his hair. Paul tried hard not to chuckle as he simply held still, until he couldn’t any more and pulled off with a wet plop. Almost immediately did John pull him up and before Paul knew what was happening, John had captured his mouth and was sucking eagerly at his tongue, tasting himself on his tongue.

“Johnny…” Paul moaned, reaching up to pull the older man closer as his hand found John’s cock anyway. This time, however, John did not complain or push his hand away. Instead he only moaned and kissed Paul even harder as his hands fell from Paul’s face and found their way under Paul’s dress, lifting it up and caressing the top of his thighs, where the stockings ended. Paul moaned meekly at the feeling of John’s rough fingertips on his bare skin.

“Such a pretty girl, you make, Macca. You should be wearing dresses more often. Let me show you off. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look when you’re all dressed up. Could even call you Paulina instead.” John grumbled against Paul’s lips, stroking his thighs and playing with the material of the costume. Paul chuckled, and broke the kiss.

“Don’t push your luck, Lennon. Or things might get ugly _real_  fast.” He reminded him, giving the cock in his hand a firm squeeze, earning himself a shocked gasp from the other man who nodded quickly.

“Yes, yes. Sorry. Now, let’s get back to work, yeah?” John said with a smirk and Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Say please.” He ordered, licking with his tongue along his teeth sensually as he moved his mouth to John’s erection again and blew on it lightly. John shuddered at the feeling and groaned, but did as Paul asked.

“Please…” He whispered, “Please suck me.” And without any further warning Paul took John back into his mouth again. The hand beneath his dress stopped for a second, before it moved further up and found Paul’s own erection, naked and fully erect. John let out a disappointed huff.

“No panties?” He asked and Paul looked back up at him and let his teeth scrape across his sensitive skin, making John gasp once more.

“I told you, don’t push it.” He repeated, before going down on him again, closing his eyes and focusing on the task at hand. Or mouth, rather. He licked a wet stripe up from John’s balls, all the way up to the top with his tongue as he suckled gently. As he reached the tip, he let his jaw go slack and breathed through his nose as he bobbed up and down the shaft, letting John fuck his mouth. John’s own fingers grasped Paul’s cock tightly and moved with him, stroking him in the same rhythm as Paul sucked him, which made Paul suck even faster and harder as he enjoyed the pleasure John was giving him.

“Shit, Macca. You were born to suck my cock. So fucking good you are for me. Too good, I swear. Oh Jesus… please.” John muttered as his hips moved with Paul. He could feel his orgasm building in his stomach and his ball tightened as Paul started to play with those as well, gently rolling them around in his hand as he hummed around John’s cock, sending vibrations through John’s body which made the pleasure only more intense.

“Gonna…” He started, but was interrupted by his own mewl as Paul sucked once hard, “So close, Paul.  Gonna… oh my…” Paul looked back up at John, locking eyes with hand and pulled off again, wrapping his hand around John to jerk him off as he opened his mouth wide.

“Please, John. Want you to come on my face. Want it all.” He moaned obscenely, and that was all John really needed. He bit down his lip and cursed under his breath as he came,  watching with wide eyes as the first stripe landed on Paul’s face, right onto his tongue. Paul moaned at the feeling and twisted his wrists to let John ride it out as more and more cum landed on his face, in his eyelashes and in his hair. Once the last shot of cum had landed, he opened his eyes again and held John’s gaze as he pulled him into his mouth again to suckle him clean.

“Oh shit!” John groaned at the sight and with only final pull at Paul’s cock, the younger man came too, soiling his dress and stockings and coating his own thighs and John’s first with cum, as he moaned around John’s softening cock.

          Once John was certain Paul was done, he let go off him and wiped his filthy hand off on Paul’s dress, before cupping the boy’s cheek in his hand and cocking his head back, making him look up at him as his soft cock slit from his red lips.

Paul’s face was a mess. He had spit and cum everywhere, his eye make up was run down, leaving him with dark stripes beneath his eyes and his lipstick was all over the place. John chuckled affectionately at him as Paul winked and reached up to get some cum out of Paul’s eye. The younger man smiled thankfully at him, before grabbing by his tie and pulling him down for a surprise kiss, smearing John’s face with the cum and spit as well and making him taste his own cum. When he pulled away and saw John’s disgusted face, he burst out in laughter.

“You’ll pay for that, McCartney.” John warned him, but Paul merely continued to laugh as he shook his head.

“Oh don’t be such a baby and help me clean myself up. Oh and by the way, you can explain to Brian why there are cum stains on this dress. He still has to bring it back to the shop.”

“It’s a fucking rental?!” John asked in disbelief, staring down at the dress. It was clear that the white stains was cum. There was no doubt about that. Oh god, what was he going to tell Brian? When he looked back up at Paul’s face and saw him biting his lip, he knew he had been joking. He rolled his eyes and moved to lay down besides the younger man, suddenly feeling incredibly tired now the pleasure of his orgasm was ebbing away.

“I fucking hate you and your stupid Halloween costumes.” John muttered as he reached for a pillow to hide his face in. Paul laughed and wiped his face on the dress as well, before leaning over to John and kissing his ear.

“No, you love Halloween.” He said and John couldn’t say anything to argue against that point. Paul was right. He did love it and he loved that Paul always took so much trouble to do these sort of things. Which made him wonder.

“Is there any chance I could get you into that dress again very soon? I’d love to fuck you in it.” He asked, turning his head to make himself a bit more audible. Paul chuckled again.

“If you’re lucky, you may do that for our second round.” He whispered into John’s ear and already John couldn’t wait. He let out a yawn, before he replied.

“In that case, you might want to freshen up, because as soon as I can get lil’ Johnny up again, you’re in for a treat.”

“Or a trick.” Paul replied, chuckling at his own joke, before kissing John’s cheek affectionately and hurrying up to the bathroom. If he knew John, that round two would be happening very soon.


	2. Day 2. House of Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John/George. John and George visit a house of horror in Hamburg.

George looked up at the mansion before him as he sucked nervously on his cigarette. There was no way he was going in there. Fuck John and his stupid plans. He could just go in there himself if he really wanted to. Not that George understood why John wanted to go in in the first place. 

The whole place looked as if it would collapse any second. The wood was ugly and mouldy, tiles had fallen off the roof and the paint had faded and George was certain he’d be able to tear it off without any effort. All of the windows had been nailed shut with wooden boards and the front door sat loose in its hinges and stood slightly ajar, beckoning them in. Around the mansion, there stood a couple of large, bare trees which seemed to be either dead, or well on their way to be. The curtains, that were only just visible behind the wooden boards, were dusty and their colour had faded. They swayed lightly in the wind. If this was only the outside, George could only imagine what the inside must be like. No, George did not want to go in there.

Of course, he knew it was fake. It was a house of horror, only set up for Halloween, but still, the place gave him the creeps and he’d rather stay away from it as far as possible. John, however, was rubbing his hands together excitedly as he stared at the house with glistering eyes, as if he couldn’t wait to finally get inside. And of course he’d drag him with him. Oh, why had he gone with him? Why hadn’t he just stayed with Paul and Stu at the club, chatting up girls and enjoying some cheap liquor? Or even just listening to scary stories in the dark? Anything was better than this, but of course John had managed to drag him with him. Like always. 

“Ready, Geo?” John asked with a smirk playing on his lips. George groaned and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He hadn’t wanted to wear his leather trousers, knowing it was best that he could move properly without getting overly hot when he’d be scared to death, but he had pulled on his leather jacket. Just to please John of course, who hadn’t given a damn and was in his full leather get-up. George looked back at the house and bit his lip.

“I don’t know, John. Can’t we just go back and-” John didn’t even let him finish his sentence. He simply grabbed George’s hand and once again dragged him with him, giving George hardly any choice but to follow him.

“Come on, it will be fun. And I’ll be there to protect you when you’re scared. I promise, you’ll like it.” John told his friend as they approached the house.

“I don’t know, John.” George tried.

“Christ. I knew I should have asked Stuart with me instead. You’re a damn baby, Geo.” John told him. George sighed, but gave in. He would prove he wasn’t a baby. Because he wasn’t. No matter how many times John and Paul would call him one. And he did like scary movies. Why would this be any different? Besides, they were in Hamburg and where would be a better place to try out new things?

“Okay, fine! But if I die because of this, you’ll have to phone me mum.” George agreed, giving a slight smile in an attempt to put his nerves besides himself. They were going to have fun.

          As it turned out, this was _very_ different from a scary movie. They were the only people inside the house, even though it was Halloween, which meant it should have been packed with people. George was glad that no one would be able to see him freak out about something that he knew wasn’t real, but that did mean he couldn’t look forward to see where the scary things were and where the actors were hiding. He stayed very closely behind John, holding him by his leather jacket as he peeked over his shoulder to see what was going on as they shuffled slowly through the house. 

It was almost completely dark, apart from some mood lighting and fake candles. They could hardly see where they were going. Luckily, John had decided to wear his glasses for this, which meant the did not bump into something scary every second. Thank the Lord. Still, just the thought that something scary might appear right before them at any time, was enough anticipation for George that even just the sound of a door closing behind them scared the shit out of him.

“George, for fuck’s sake. Stop breathing down my neck, would you? And stop jumping me everytime you hear a sound. You’re freaking me out more than this house is.”  John complained, trying to sound casual, but George could hear the tension in John’s voice. He didn’t comment on it and simply tried not to breathe like a creep into John’s neck by raising his head a bit more.

“Sorry…” He whispered back, as if keeping quiet would help them in some way. George knew that was stupid. The actors probably knew exactly where they were and what they would have to do to scare them. John didn’t comment on it, though, which made George believe he was just as scared to make a sound as he was, which made George feel a little better about himself.

They turned around a corner and came to a dark stairwell. At the bottom was a door with light shining through from underneath it. John and George turned to look at each other and nodded to say they were both ready. Slowly, they descended the stairs, George still holding onto John’s jacket as they tried not to notice the blood that seemed to be dripping from the walls, the cold air that they felt at the back of their necks and the creaking of the wood beneath their feet, giving the impression that they would fall through the stairs if they stayed on it for any longer than was necessary.

Once they finally reached the end, they let out a sigh of relief. However, their relief has just come a bit too soon, as when John turned the shiny gold doorknob and pulled the door open, they were surprised by a young woman in an old, white wedding dress screaming straight into their faces for a second. John and George screamed back at her, their voices ridiculously high pitched, their faces as white as the lady’s dress. They would have laughed at themselves for their stupid behaviour, had they not been scared to death. She continued to scream for a while, her hands in firm fist along her sides, clutching a bloody knife in her right hand. She threw it over their heads before quickly running away and disappearing through another door.

George and John stood nailed to the ground for a while, George clutching at John’s body, staring at the spot the woman had stood as they got their breaths. Once John realised what had happened he let out a shaky laugh. In hindsight, George supposed it should have sounded brave, but in that moment John had still been too shaken by what had just happened to make it sound that way.

“She got your good, eh, Geo?” He joked, but George simply continued to stare at the spot. Only after a few more seconds, he merely nodded in agreement.

“See, Georgie? This is why you should never leave a woman at the altar. She’ll fucking murder ya!” John continued, still faking a laugh as he tugged himself free from George’s grip and walked further into the room. It was incredibly dirty, with spiders webs all over the place and dust everywhere. Against the wall stood a large cupboard with next to it a large desk with all kinds of things on it ,of which neither John nor George wanted to know the usage. In a dark corner of the room stood something that looked like a coffin.

George had regained the ability to move around and speak, and even though adrenalin was still rushing through his body from the previous fright, his interest was piqued by the coffin. He carefully moved over to it, trying to avoid the very real looking cobwebs (he really didn’t care to find out if they really were real) and halted a few feet from the coffin. John had seem him walk over to it and had followed him. He reached for the coffin, but right before his hand could touch it, the door swung open and a skeleton fell out of it. John and George let out a simultaneous scream, which echoed through the room. The skeleton would have stopped right before their faces, but John and George had already ran out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

“Fuck! Fucking hell.” John swore, unable to find any other words at that moment. George could only nod in agreement and let out a whine when John started walking again.

“Can’t we go back?” He asked carefully.

“There’s no way I’m going back into that room!” John replied, reaching backward with his hand to grasp George’s wrist to pull him closer. George chuckled as he saw John’s face. He was white as a sheet, his eyes wide and scanning the room wildly for any scares.

“Scared, Johnny?” George asked, taking pleasure in seeing his tough friend scared shitless for the first time in his life. John scoffed at that, but George could hear a slight tremble in his voice as he spoke.

“No fucking way, Harrison. Just looking out for you, mate. I don’t want you to pee your pants while we’re in here. I know you only got one left. Just being considerate.” He said as they walked through another hallway. This one went in all kinds of directions making many turns. George looked at the walls as they walked. There were many paintings on them and he swore he could see some of the eyes move around, following him.

“Sure, John. Whatever you say.” He muttered back, frowning when one of the portraits winked at him. They took another turn and were once again scared to death as some random guy in a cape stood before them, baring his teeth and showing his pointy teeth. He disappeared almost as quickly as he had appeared and now they found themselves looking into a wall.

“Mirror.” John said after a while, tapping the glass lightly with a knuckle, “Fucking mirrors.” Next to them was a curtain. John pulled it aside and they found another staircase. They quickly walked up it, looking down at the stairs themselves as they tried to regain some control over their nerves and breathing.

They ended up in a room that looked like a study of some sort. There were huge bookcases against the walls and a few large, comfy, but battered sofas in the middle of the room. Besides books, the bookcases were filled with old animal bones (or so they hoped), animals and organs bottled up in large jars with some gooey substance in it, and some more weird equipment. There were spiders and rats all over the place, which were obviously fake, as they would not move. Needless to say, neither of the boys wanted to stay in that room any longer and hurried along quickly.

“How long do you think until we’re out?” George whispered at John, staring up at a large chandelier that hung from the ceiling with more cobwebs and fake spiders in them. He heard something creak behind him, but he didn’t dare to look what it was.

“Soon I fucking hope. We’ve been in this damned place for long enough. ” John whispered back as they moved to the next room, which looked identical to the one before. They went through another door, which was again led into the study. This time, however, there lay something on one of the sofas under a white sheet. They quickly hurried out of the room, not wanting to see what lay beneath it. 

They came to another dark hallway, with only a few candles lightening their way. Chains hung from the ceiling, sometimes with a skeleton in them, sometimes only a hand or a leg. As they passed a spike with an eyeless head planted on it, they hurried along again.

“John?” George asked after a while, “Please stop grabbing my hand. You’re making me nervous and it’s not funny.” He tried to pull his hand free from John’s, which was extremely clammy. John, who had been walking next to him, turned to him with a puzzled look.

“I’m not… holding your hand.” He said and the two men looked at each other for a while, their eyes growing wide in realisation. George’s heart sped up in his chest as the clammy hand found his again, this time tugging him backwards. Quickly, George pulled his hand free and he and John started running away. He ran as quickly as he could, not paying attention to the maniacal laughter behind him or the hands trying to grab his feet as he ran past a few barred off rooms. John was a few feet in front of him, showing him the way. 

He felt another hand on his arm and he jumped in fright, making him fall over his own feet. He landed on the ground with a loud smack. He groaned and tried to get up again. He wasn’t in any pain. The ground he had landed on was soft, thankfully. He scrambled back up on his feet, but when he looked to his right and found himself looking straight into someone’s face (or what was left of it), he shrieked in fright and fell down again. This time, he got up a lot quicker and ran over to John, who was urging him on to “hurry to fuck up” and “move his skinny arse”.

They ran the last bit. When they saw a bright light at the end of the corridor and felt fresh air on their faces, they smiled and laughed in relief. John took George’s hand in his, and this time George didn’t complain and simply ran with him towards the end. Both started laughing almost as manically as the people inside the house when he ran out of the house and found themselves looking at a large sign saying: AUSGANG.

John and George continued to laugh as they looked back at opening through which they had escaped and gasped for breath. George lowered himself to the ground to sit down for awhile and inspect himself for any bruises from when he had fallen down. John stood in front of him, running his fingers through his hair as he started to calm down.

“God…” John laughed, “That was… brilliant! I told you it would be fun. Damn, I’m still pumped up on adrenalin. This works far better than those damn uppers people keep offering us.” George’s laughter died down as he looked up at his friend as if he was completely mental.

“I am never, never, doing that again. Ever.” He warned him, knowing fully well how John’s brain worked. John merely grinned down at him and offered him a hand.

“Want to go get Paul and Stu and watch them freak out, too?” John asked as he pulled George back on his feet. George couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the thought of watching Stuart and Paul go through that hell as well. They wouldn’t know what hit them. John had noticed his grin as well, and smirked at him, already knowing his answer.

“I knew I had brought you for a reason, Harrison. We think alike, you and me. Great minds and all that.” He told him and pulled him against him for a quick peck on the lips, before the two of them walked back to the Reeperbahn, giggling all the way and talking in hushed voices as the planned their scheme to get Paul and Stuart into the house. This was going to be even better than going in themselves, they were certain. And it would totally be worth the glares and angry shout they would receive after.


	3. Day 3. The Halloween Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul/George. John throws a Halloween party and Paul can’t take his eyes of George, so he drags him off to somewhere more private.

George sighed as he placed all the empty beer bottles he had gathered on the kitchen counter. He reached over to grab some of John’s paper towels to carefully wipe off his forehead with. It had definitely been a mistake to put on all that make-up. It was too hot in John’s house; there were too many people and the living room was just too small. Even with the windows open it was still too warm. And the outfit he was wearing wasn’t helping much either. 

He had put on a full-on suit that was even a little bit too big for him. Yes, not the cleverest of ideas, but it worked! Paul had helped him paint his entire face like a skeleton’s and with the large suit, he looked even skinnier and bonier and more skeleton like. Besides, Paul had told him he looked hot and he had seen the way he kept staring at him, ogling him when he thought he wasn’t looking. And everyone else kept complimenting him, too. Just another two hours and it’d be midnight. He just needed to hold himself together until then.

Carefully, George pressed the paper towel against his head, holding it there and letting it absorb the little drops of sweat that had gathered on his face. At least, it wasn’t itching like crazy. That would have made things even worse. But Paul was worth it. And he guessed that if he held out a little bit longer, Paul would definitely be proud of him and show him just how much he appreciated his trouble. He sighed once more and threw the towel in the bin, before grabbing himself a glass of water. He needed to stay hydrated. He couldn’t ruin it now by passing out.

“Geo? Are you in here?” Ringo’s voice came from the hallway and George hadn’t even turned his head yet, or Ringo’s face had appeared in the doorway. Ringo had been a lot more clever. He had come as a clown, but had only put on a funny red wig and a false red nose. He wore a pair of red trousers with green suspenders and a yellow shirt. He had borrowed John’s shoes, which were too big for him and that was all. Simple, and not too hot. George was almost envious of him. Only… he didn’t want to be a clown.

“Are you okay?” Ringo asked as he looked at George’s face, his expression turned serious all of a sudden. George shrugged.

“Just hot.” He replied, drinking some more of the cold water. It was actually helping against the hotness as well, which was a more than welcome side effect.

“It’s just… you look so white. I mean, even your lips are white. And you’ve got dark circles around your eyes and everything. It doesn’t look good, son.” Ringo continued, trying his hardest to will away the amused smile that was creeping onto his face. At least he liked the joke himself, because George was a little too overheated to appreciate it at that moment.

“Very fucking funny, Rings. Now what do you want?” He snapped. He regretted it immediately and wanted to apologise right away, but Ringo merely raised his hand to say it was fine.

“You’re right. I deserved that. My deepest apologies, but I swear it wasn’t my fault. You can’t get the clown out of the costume, I suppose.” Ringo told him, snickering at his own jokes and George humoured him by giving a chuckle as well, before turning around to refill his glass. Ringo walked over to him and sat down on John’s dining table, planting his feet on one of the chairs.

“Paul’s looking for you, you know. Been asking around for you and all that.” Ringo said as he spotted some magazines and started skimming through them. Most of them were women’s magazines, probably belong to Cynthia.

George couldn’t stop himself from smirking at the thought of Paul searching for him. Knowing the horny git, he had probably had enough of waiting. Not that George would really mind. As long as it got him out of this damned suit for a few minutes. And it would give him an excuse not to talk to all those other people, which was always a blessing.

Ringo seemed to have noticed the smirk on George’s face, as he was grinning back at him knowingly, his fingers still going through the magazines even if he wasn’t looking into them anymore. George blushed, like a schoolboy getting caught for doing something naughty in class.

“I swear, you’re as bad as him sometimes.” Ringo said and George shook his head, but the blush on his cheeks only got worse.

“It’s not the sex.” He muttered and Ringo almost burst out in laughter, which made George wonder how much his friend had had to drink. Ringo was always cheery and carefree and laughed a lot, but he wasn’t one to laugh at a friend. Not unless he had something to drink, that is.

“Ha! As if. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’ve heard the two of you, remember.”

“It’s not _just_ the sex.” George told him quickly, looking away from him and taking a sip of water before continuing, “It would also give me the chance to get away from everyone for a bit.”

“You do realise that you could just go into the garden or something? You know, where no one is mad enough to go to, because it’s so damn cold? A.k.a fresh air?” Ringo asked, but now it was George’s time to smirk at him.

“I said it’s not _just_ the sex, Richie. That does not mean the prospect of sex is not relevant.” George reminded him. Ringo put the magazines away again and got up from the table, moving closer to George. The younger man moved away from him a little, pretending to move to lean casually against the counter, but George knew Ringo knew better.

“And that, my dear fellow, is something Paul could have said.” Ringo said, reaching next to George to open the fridge and take out a beer for himself, “Now, if I were you, I’d got looking for Paul, then. If you really want to ‘get away from everyone for a bit’ to do you-know-what.” And with those final words, he winked at his friend, before walking out of the kitchen and heading back to the living room and back to the party.

Once he had left, George realised he hadn’t stopped smirking after Ringo had told him Paul was looking for him. He quickly finished his glass of water, before following Ringo out and back to the party, this with the idea of finding Paul, instead of finding a save corner to hide himself in and talk only with the people he knew.

          George found Paul rather quickly. As it happened Paul had standing near the door and was just talking to Cynthia, and listening to her as she explained she had seen him in going into the kitchen just five minutes ago or something. He was standing with his back to the door and hadn’t seen George come back inside, and George couldn’t see his face, but he was certain it was Paul, with his Buddy Holly-look.

It was a lot better than the last time he had dressed up as Buddy Holly and actually looked rather convincing. Only the hair hadn’t worked out that well, but neither Paul nor George had expected much with their long “beatle” hair. It was even a miracle they had managed to get it up at least a little bit, to make it look shorter.

George, grabbing this perfect opportunity with both hands, tiptoed over to his friend and leaned over his shoulder, holding his face right besides Paul’s and giving him a scary grin that he knew worked will with his make-up. He made his eyes a little bit wider and started breathing heavily into Paul’s neck. He could already see Cynthia trying to hold back her laughter (and failing miserably) from the corner of his eye, but that didn’t matter. Paul shuddered as his hot breath ghosted over his face and neck, making the little hairs there stand up straight. When he turned his head to look at George, he let out a girly cry and jumped almost a meter in the air, John’s glasses nearly falling off his nose and ending up about two feet away from them. Immediately, George burst out in laughter and Cynthia followed quickly after as she pointed at Paul.

“Oh, you should see your face! That’s priceless. Good one, George.” She laughed, holding her other hand in front of her mouth as she did so. George smiled at her, as he continued to laugh at his friend, who was now glaring at him rather angrily as he fixed his glasses.

“Fuck, Geo. I knew I should never have let you paint your whole face. Terrifying you are. We should have just made you a vampire, like John suggested. Would save me a damn heart attack!” Paul grumbled at him, fixing his clothing, even though he looked fine, and shuffled back over to them. George’s laughter died down, but he still couldn’t stop smirking.

“Do you really mean that, Paulie?” George asked with a wink, standing up a little straighter and loosening his tie a little. Paul’s pupils dilated at the sight and for a second he couldn’t find the words he wanted to use.

“I- er… That’s- but… I-I need to talk to you.” He stammered, making Cynthia giggle even more behind her hand. When George turned to her for her okay, she merely waved them away and continued to giggle, as she walked off, probably to find her husband. When she was far away enough, Paul leaned a little closer to whisper into George’s ear.

“In private.” He added and George pretended to be surprised as he nodded. Paul took him by his wrist and dragged him away from the other people at the party.

          When they reached the stairs, George thought about playing dumb a little longer, but decided against it as Paul started to ascend the stairs, giving George a nice few of his arse, which made it almost impossible not to follow him. They walked upstairs in silence, George pretending not to be looking at Paul’s arse as they passed some guy who had been using the bathroom. When they reached the guest bedroom, Paul turned his head to smirk at George and George only smirked back, letting him know he was fully aware of where this was going. Paul opened the door, but quickly shut it again as a stream of shouts erupted from the room, telling them to piss off and leave them the fuck alone.

“Taken.” Paul grinned at George in amusement. He looked along  the corridor to think of some other place they could go. But apart from the guest bedroom, Julian’s bedroom and John and Cynthia’s, there were no other rooms with a bed.

“I’m not having sex in a crib.” George warned when he saw Paul  turn back around to him with a mischievous look on his face, which quickly made place for a disgusted one.

“What?! What do you take me for, Geo? I’m thinking of John and Cyn’s bedroom, of course.” He hissed to him. George’s eyes went wide as they drifted to the door which he knew led to the master bedroom. He shook his head.

“I don’t know, Paul. Isn’t that a bit… I don’t know…”

“Kinky?”

“Fucked up is a word I’d use.” George replied with a tentative smile. Paul rolled his eyes and grabbed George’s wrist again as he dragged him with him.

“Same thing.  And don’t worry. I’m sure Mr and Mrs Lennon wouldn’t mind. Who knows what kind of messy shit they get up to.” Paul told him as he started walking. George struggled, trying to break himself loose from Paul’s grip, but he was holding him too tightly.

“Exactly,” George huffed, pulling at Paul’s fingers in an attempt to get him to let go, “that poor bed as seen enough.”

“Don’t be such a baby. Come on, it will be fun. Sexy. A little daring, perhaps. Besides, John and Cyn never have to know. And I’m sure many other people have used this bedroom before, seeing the type of people John invites to his parties.”

“I don’t know, Paul…” George still tried as they stopped before the dreaded door. He looked at it in mistrust, as if it would snitch on them or something  to John.

“Tell you what, we get in there and if you’re still uncomfortable then, we’ll wait until the others are finished in the guest room. Just letting you know, this bed will be cleaner.” Paul said and George thought about it for a bit, before nodding.

“Alright. But we leave as soon as I say so, okay?” He asked, just to be sure. Paul nodded and leaned in to place an encouraging kiss on George’s lips, before turning the doorknob to John and Cynthia’s bedroom.

          George tried his hardest to put the thought of being in John and Cynthia’s bedroom out of his mind, and he quickly realised that was easier than he had thought. They had locked the door behind them and at the moment Paul’s lips were pulling at his, kissing him and slowly but surely making him feel more relaxed. His hands had found Paul’s hips and were holding him closely against him as the moved towards the bed. It was nice and quiet in the bedroom. Even the muffled sounds from the party downstairs were almost inaudible and as their breathing grew heavy, George found himself drifting away into his own little world, which he only shared with Paul.

His breath hitched in his throat when the back of his legs hit the bed, bringing him back into reality for a moment, until he felt Paul’s hands on his shoulder, pressing him down onto the bed and making him lay down as he crawled ontop of him. The familiar weight of Paul’s body on top of him calmed him and he let out a weak moan as Paul kissed him again, licking his lips apart and curling his tongue around his, as he let his fingers caress the younger man’s face.

“See?” he asked as he pulled away to gasp for breath, “It’s all fine.” George nodded in response and grabbed the lapels of Paul’s shiny blue jacket and pulled him in for another kiss. This time is was Paul’s time to moan and he could feel his glasses sliding from his nose, knocking against George’s face. Both man snickered against each other’s lips, and George pushed them gently back up Paul’s nose, not breaking the kiss.

Paul’s hands seemed to be all over his body, pulling at his suit and dipping his hands inside to touch the bare skin he found there, making George give into him more and more and forget about whose bed it was they were going to have sex in. When his fingers found George’s loose tie, he tugged at it as he bit down George’s bottom lip rather painfully, making the younger man beneath him groan in a mix of pleasure and pain. When he tugged again, George knew what it was he wanted. He pulled away and looked deep into Paul’s eyes for a second or two before nodding.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” He whispered, his voice already breathy. Paul nodded and tugged George’s tie off. He rolled it up messily, and held it in front of George’s face, as if he was waiting for something. George swallowed down his nerves and slowly opened his mouth, holding eye contact with Paul all the while, and holding still as Paul pushed the clothing into his mouth. The tie was large enough to act as a proper gag, which surprised George. He relaxed his mouth and took a few deep breaths through his nose to get used to the feeling of having something in his mouth that kept him from breathing through his mouth and speaking. He hummed and nodded when he was alright. Paul leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth, before he took off his own tie as well.

“I’m going to roll you over now. Remember, I’ll be watching your fingers. Just raise two you’re pointer and ring finger if you want me to stop.” Paul said, sitting up and moving off of George. George nodded, before rolling himself over onto his belly. Paul grabbed a pillow and laid it down beneath George’s head. The younger man moaned appreciatively and relaxed into Paul’s touch as the bassist let his fingers run affectionately through his hair. He took a hold of George’s wrists and tight them together with his tie, before straddling him again, sitting down on the back of George’s thighs.

“Tell me ‘no’.” Paul ordered and George raised his pointer and ring finger for him. Paul nodded and leaned down to kiss George’s hands, before he started to work on dragging George’s trousers down.

“We have to be quick, luv. I’m sorry. I’ll promise I’ll take care of you like I should when we get back home, okay?” Paul asked, and George hummed against the gag in his mouth and nodded with his head, trying to raise his hips to help Paul. He groaned as he felt Paul pull both his slacks and underwear down in one go, leaving his naked bum exposed.

“Now, let’s see if you’ve been a good boy for me, eh?” Paul muttered as he lifted George’s shirt and jacket a little higher and leaned down to kiss the small of his back, before moving lower with his mouth to nibble at the skin of George’s cute butt. His hands moved from George’s thighs, up to George’s bum, caressing it and massaging it teasingly, before letting his thumb run along his crack, making George whimper and shudder in anticipation. Paul groaned as he felt his thumb slide into George’s still wet hole almost without any pressure.

“Oh, fuck yeah… such a good boy. You’ll get your reward when we get back home, I promise. But we can’t have people coming to look for us. Not when we’re in here.” Paul spoke, emphasising the last word and George’s body tensed up slightly as he let out another whimper. He didn’t raise any finger however, so Paul supposed he was now also seeing the appeal of doing it in here. He moved his lips lower, and parted George’s arse cheeks with both hands and let his tongue slide along George’s crack, smirking as he moaned and twisted against the binds in pleasure. When he reached his goal and tongued at the rim, George’s whole body tensed and he let out another weak moan. Paul could see him trying to move his hands in spite of the binds, probably wanting to hold onto something. Paul simply ignored it and let his tongue circle George’s already wet entrance, before dipping it inside, earning himself another strangled moan.

He forced his eyes to remain open as he worked, keeping an eye on George’s fingers, like he had promised, and licked George open until he was trembling against him. He tried to push his arse up into Paul’s face, but the binds made it difficult for him to move, and when Paul gave a little suck, his whole body went weak, making it impossible for him to do anything, but to simply take it. Paul gave him one final, firm lick, and pulled away. He leaned over George’s body and kissed the shell of the boy’s ear, as his hands continued to caress his bum.

“You’re doing good, Geo. I’m going to roll you over again, okay? Hold on.” Paul told him gently and moved his hands up to tug at his tie, letting it slide from George’s wrist, before he carefully rolled him onto his back. He gasped at the sight before him. George was looking at him through half-lidded eyes and his lips were chapped and dry, giving away hits of pink beneath the white make-up. His cheeks had also coloured a light pink, which was slightly visible through the make up, making him look like a blushing skeleton. It should have been funny, but all Paul could think about was how sexy he looked, even through the blur of John’s glasses. He leaned down and kissed the corner of George’s mouth again, as his hands grasped his wrists again, holding them in front of his body and trying them together again with the tie. George didn’t object to any of it and simply let Paul move him around whatever way he liked. He let out a weak growl, or at least Paul guessed it was a growl, when Paul let his hands slide down and started to play with George’s erection, taking it between his fingers and lightly touching it, only hinting at something a lot more satisfying.

He moved away from George’s face and instead kneeled between George’s legs. He raised them up in the air, as he could not part them without taking his trousers the rest of the way off, which just seemed like too much work. He held them against George’s chest as he moved his fingers down to George’s glistening opening. He teased him there with his fingers for a bit, until he was trembling again, before pulling out his own cock and lining it up with George’s arse. He spat into his hand and slicked himself up, giving himself a couple of strokes just for the sakes of it, before gently pressing inside the other man, his groans falling in sync with George’s.

“Oh yeah… So good, Geo. You’re being so good. Gonna give you want you need, darling. Going to give it all to you. Don’t worry.” Paul mumbled as he sank deeper and deeper inside the younger man, marveling at the tightness that came with the minimum amount of prep and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from thrusting in with one hard shove. He did not want to hurt George. Never would he want to hurt George, not even when they were playing, about which George had complained more than once.

The younger man let out a needy moan against the tie in his mouth, making Paul look down at him again and making their eyes meet. They continued to stare into each other’s eyes as Paul pushed his way inside, further and further until he was all the way in. He let out a sigh of relief and let his head fall slack for a bit as he took a couple of deep breath, staring at the place where he and George were joined together.

George let out an impatient whine and started to wiggle his hips as he tried to say Paul’s name, which only came out muffled. Still, Paul knew what he wanted and was more than glad to give it to him.

“Ready?” He asked, just to be sure and George nodded eagerly. Paul nodded back and slowly started to pull out, groaning at the drag of George’s arse around his cock. Fuck, it felt good. “You’re the best, Geo. Fucking amazing, you are.” Paul muttered mindlessly as he started to push back in, trying not to come at the spot at the tightness and find George’s pleasure spot instead. It took him a few tries, getting George to whine in slight discomfort and his insides to contract around him in the most delicious fashion.

But when he finally had it, and George started to relax around him and give into the pleasure, the whole sensation became even better. George let out a constant stream of moans and groans, muffled by the tie as Paul muttered praises and pumped himself in and out of the younger man in a steady rhythm, with deep thrust, hitting his spot nearly every time. Both tried to keep their voices down as much as possible, not wanting to get caught, but it just felt too good to keep quiet. Not even the tie was working as well as Paul had thought.

Paul leaned over George, placing his hands on either side of George’s head as he buried his face in the crook of his neck as he continued to fuck George the best he could manage. When he heard George trying to speak, he knew what he wanted right away, and forced one hand between them to play with George’s cock. George wailed and started to move his hips with Paul the best he good, fucking Paul’s fist with his cock as he pushed himself back against Paul to increase the pleasure for the both of them.

          Soon, Paul could feel sweat on his forehead and his balls tighten up. His orgasm was approaching quickly, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. Not with George’s constant stream of filthy noises and his sinful movements.

“Are you… there for me, Georgie?” Paul asked, his breathing heavy and coming only in pants. George bit down the tie in his mouth and nodded quickly, as his hip movements began to falter. Paul let out a relieved chuckle.

“Yeah… me too. Oh shit.” He muttered and bit down the skin of George’s neck lightly, as he screwed his eyes shut and let the pleasure take over. He fisted George’s erection harder and quicker, making George tremble against him on the bed, and after just another minute, he heard George gave a weak cry as his cock began to throb and spasm in his hand, shooting cum and Paul had to move away not to get his or George’s clothing dirty, letting him cum in his hand.

“Shit…” He moaned as George’s insides pulled him even deeper inside George and he couldn’t stop himself from cumming any longer when he saw the blissed-out expression on his friend’s face. He bit down his lip and gave a weak cry as he came too, spilling himself inside George and marking him as his own. George wined at the feeling of Paul’s cum filling him up, and collapsed on the bed, as his own orgasm ebbed away, his legs falling to the side. Paul held still and trying not to make too much noise as he lightly moved his hips to ride out his orgasm. When he finally collapsed on top of George, he let out a happy chuckle and started littering George’s neck with kisses. He raised his hand to remove the gag and then release George’s wrists.

“Worth it. Right?” Paul asked, still catching his breath and George hummed as he wrapped his arms around the older man’s body and held onto him  tightly.

“Sure…” He replied with a yawn, “but next time we’ll use to guest bedroom, again.” Paul could only laugh at that and leaned up to give George another passionate kiss, muttering promises of love against his now pink lips.


	4. Day 4. A Masked Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George/??. George is seduced by a stranger at a masked party. Who is it?

George wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing at this particular party. It had been thrown by a person, who knew some more persons who had known a friend of George’s friend, who had invited them along. George had wanted to refuse at first, but his friend hadn’t taken “no” for an answer, which was why he was standing in the corner of the large room filled with people in old, Victorian-esque dresses and suits and Venetian masks covering theirs faces. Of course, his friend had disappeared almost as soon as they had arrived, leaving George on his own in a room full of strangers, never to return again. Honestly, George wondered why he had wanted him to come so desperately in the first place.

He sighed deeply. He took his champagne from the table next to him and started drinking, simply to pass the time. He fumbled with a small note between his fingers and stared at it thoughtfully as he swallowed down the alcohol. It was free, anyway. It was a curious thing, though. Even though George knew no one at this particular party- he doubted his friend was even still there, someone had bothered to write him a note. It had been given to him by a waiter about two drinks back, but he had refused to tell him who it was from.

There was no name beneath the note. It simply read:

_I’m sorry your friend stood you up. I dig your mask. It suits you._

That was all. No explanation, no sender, no names. Technically, there was a possibility this note wasn’t even for him, but for someone else. It _was_ a masked party. The sender could have mistaken him for someone else. But for some reason that didn’t seem right. George folded the note back up and drank the last of his champagne as he leaned back against the wall behind him to watch people dance and laugh and enjoy themselves. Unlike him. These kinds of parties just weren’t for him.

          Out of nowhere and for no apparent reason, someone- probably a guy, judging from the suit- tapped him over the shoulder and handed him another glass of champagne. George stared at it, debating with himself on whether to take it or not, before deciding he didn’t have much more to lose. He accepted the drink with a shyly muttered “thanks.” The other man simply smiled at him.

“I’d thought you could use another drink. Let me guess, you don’t know anybody here and you’re friend has left you and disappeared into thin air?” The other man spoke from behind his mask. George could see his lips curl up in a smile and he wished he could see the man’s whole face. His mask was a deep blue with gold lace around the edges. Around the eyes were two patches, one a light gold with music notes on it, the other a harder gold with flowery shapes engraved in it. At the top of the left eye, there was a black flower with golden glistening in it. It truly was beautiful and George found it difficult to look away. When the other man coughed awkwardly, he realised he was supposed to answer his question.

“Y-yes. I’m sorry, I just… your mask is really beautiful.” George told him and the man smiled again at him. His cheeks were covered by the mask, but still George could sense he was blushing ever so slightly. The man shifted his weight from the one foot to the other and back again.

“Oh… Thank you. I lend it from a friend. She has great taste.” He replied and George smiled back, nodding.

“Yes. She has.” He spoke, still studying the mask. There seemed to be black lace behind the space for the eyes, to obscure his eyes. Clever, George thought.

“I see, you’ve gotten my letter.” It took George a while to realise the other man had spoken again. He flushed slightly and was glad he, too, was wearing a mask. Not one as gorgeous as the other man’s but still rather pretty. Green and gold with large feathers on either side, making them seem as extensions of his eyelashes. It matched with his bow tie and its sharp features, accented his own. Or so he had been told.

“Your letter?” He asked. The other man nodded at the piece of paper in his hand, which only made George repeat his question.

“I thought you looked lonely and sad and could use something to cheer you up. If I had known you were as nice as you are handsome, I would have simply come over to you sooner.” The other man explained and George nodded, staring down at the piece of paper in his hand.

“What is your name?” He asked after thinking deeply for about a minute. The man laughed at that and shook his head.

“What would be the point of a masked ball if everyone could just tell them their identities? It would ruin the whole thing, don’t you think? And where’s the fun it that?”

“I was just curious.” George explained, but he knew he was right.

“Do you want to dance?” The other man suddenly asked after a few more minutes of silence. George blushed at that and turned away from the other man.

“I-I err… I’m not sure you want me as a dancing partner. I’ve been told I’ve got two left feet!” He said, but the other man did not seem put off. Instead, he took all of George’s things and put them onto the table next to them, before taking his wrist.

“You’ll be fine. We can suck together.” He told him, winking. George blushed only more fiercely and shook his head again.

“No. It’s just… dancing is not really my forte, you know?”

“Then what is your forte?” The other man asked and he seemed seriously interested, leaning in and listening closely as George answered him.

“Gardening.” He replied and the stranger chuckled at that, but he didn’t seem to be laughing at him or his gardening, really.

“Not my first choice, but understandable. Now, no excuses and dance with me. I promise you, you will enjoy it.” The stranger tried, pulling at George’s wrist, as George thought about it. Eventually, his eyes met the other man’s as they struggled, and right away he knew he should give in. What harm could one dance do?

          He let himself be taken to the dance floor, between all the other dancing couples and that’s when George realised something. He moved a bit closer to the other man and beckoned him closer so he could whisper in his ear. It was a lot louder at this part of the room.

“Won’t people be looking at us?” he asked carefully, and the stranger smiled at him gently as he shook his head. “I mean. You’re not a girl.” George clarified, just in case. The other man laughed, and George chuckled along nervously until the stranger finally answered.

“No, I am not. And I do prefer men to women, so if that makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” He told him quickly, making George shake his head almost immediately.

“No! That’s not… It’s just. Won’t they think it is weird?”

“Don’t be silly. This party is hosted by Brian Epstein, if there’s any party you can be you, it is at his, since he’s a queer himself. It is very liberating to not hide for a moment, you know. As we can do now. By simply… dancing.”

The stranger took the younger man by his hand and waist and pulled him closer to him. George let him, placing his hands on the other man’s shoulder as they moved slowly to the music.

They danced quietly, looking at each other and speaking wordlessly about all kinds of topics, and simply were for awhile as they really were. No one looked at them weirdly, and those few people that made comments were corrected by other. George felt at ease, and soon he didn’t mind that he had come to this party. Not when he had a handsome stranger in his arms.

“I know your name,” The handsome stranger suddenly told him, and George looked up at him with a curious frown, “It’s Harrison, isn’t it? You’re Paul’s old friend.” George nearly tripped at the name “Paul”. He had been his best friend when they had been small, but they had drifted apart when Paul had gone to study at university. This stranger knew Paul?

“Yes. I’m George Harrison.  How do you know Paul?” George asked, and the stranger shrugged.

“I’ve seen him around a few times. Talked to him in a few clubs. Nice guy, he is.”

“Yes, he is.” George agreed, looking down and biting his lips. He wondered if he knew this person as well, if he had heard of him? Maybe they had seen each other a few time, maybe they have even spoken to each other, but only shortly after which George had forgotten it. Still, there was a strange feeling at the bottom of his stomach and his hands had started to sweat as he held the other man. When he looked back up, he saw the other man was looking down at him, even though George could not see his eyes, and smiling.

“I er…” He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned over to George, “Do you want to go somewhere private?” Before George knew what the stranger was implying, he had already said “yes”, which was a relief, as he doubted he would have had accepted, had he not known, being too nervous about the whole thing. The stranger smiled and nodded, before pulling away from George and moving them into the coat closet.

          Once they were inside, George opened his mouth to ask the other man’s name again, not wanting to do anything with a nameless man, considering the dangers, but before he could, the stranger had closed the door tightly behind him and jumped himself at George, pressing their lips firmly together. Both men let out a contented sigh, and cocked their heads to depend the kiss, suckling at each other’s lips and tongues and taking from them their breath, which they sucked inside their own lungs. George’s hands reached up to caress the stranger’s face, as the other man’s hands were caressing his chest and shoulders.

When they broke away to breath, George reached behind the other man’s head and untied his mask. He let it slip slightly from the other man’s nose, giving him the time to pull away or put a stop to it, but when George finally let the mask fall away, and their eyes met directly for the first time, both men gasped and icy, yet warm blue eyes met George’s dark brown ones. They smiled at each other, but didn’t say anything, and simply kissed each other again, pulling each other closer and exploring each other. George didn’t want to know the stranger’s name anymore. Just to see his face was more than enough in that moment. After all, he did not want to break that spell of mystique that hung around the smaller man.


	5. Day 5. Doesn’t Anything Last?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John/Paul. Wings are touring in the US and Paul decides to pay John a visit unexpected by going trick-or-treating.

Paul kept his head down as he slandered through the busy streets of new york, passing through the surprisingly many children that had seemed to have spontaneously appeared in the city that was normally filled with adults and young people in their twenties as they went around ringing doorbells and asking for candy. Often they walked around with their parents or older brothers or sisters, who carried their heavily filled bags. Paul thought it was hardly fair to the children in villages or in the countryside, who had to work a lot harder to get their candy. Some of these kids already had a bag full after two apartment blocks.

He himself was wearing a costume, too, of course, in order not to get recognised on his evening stroll around the city. Still, the chances or being recognised were rather slim, as no one was expecting him to walk around the city at this hour with all those people around. Plus, there were odder looking people around who caught people’s eyes. He, a normal looking fellow in a cheap zombie costume, was the least of their concerns.

Honestly, Paul wasn’t sure himself what he was doing on the street. Linda had given him a weird look when he had told her he’d be going for a stroll around the city for an hour or two, telling her not to wait up for him (which she would probably do anything, being far too worried about his wellbeing to be able to sleep). He hadn’t been able to explain to her why he wanted to go out for a walk. He had simply had the feeling as if that was the right thing to do at that moment. Like he needed to go out to get some fresh air and simply be alone for a while, away from all the craziness of the tour and those annoying questions about his relationship with John or the other Beatles, or about The Beatles itself, about a possible reunion. They had only just broken up, for Christ’s sake! He and John had only “made-up” a few months ago when he had paid him a visit to play with him again and already people wanted them to perform together again. To be honest, Paul doubted there would ever be a reunion.

Paul wasn’t naive, though. He knew he would be tied to those years of his life forever, even when he was old and wrinkly and muttering nonsense in the last of his senile years, people would still ask him about The Beatles. About John. Paul kicked at a small rock with a loud sigh and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his (cold) torn Halloween costume. What had he been thinking, wearing something with tears and holes in it? It was almost Novembre, for crying out loud. Shivering, Paul continued to walk, smiling at the kids laughing and running around, as if it was their birthdays. Mary and Stella were probably still watching that scary kid’s movie with Linda. He should have been there with them, shouldn’t he?

He continued walking until he walked into a more quiet and familiar street. He frowned as he studied the buildings on both sides of the streets, wondering when he might have been there or where he had seen pictures of it. He recognised places, but he couldn’t find anything that might have caused him to know this particular street so well, until he found himself looking up at one particular building with apartments. He swallowed thickly and felt his heart swell up in his chest as he continued to stare at one particular window.

Should he?  He really shouldn’t. Why should he want to, anyway? What was the point? Why go through all that again? But then again… Things were different now. Very different from the way they had once been, but also from a few months back. An ache in his heart made him take a step towards the building. Would he let him in? Would he even answer? Would he yell at him? Scream at him or call him names? Or would he welcome him like an old friend- his old partner? He took another step forward and glanced around the street. There was no one near who seemed to be paying any kind of attention to him or the building, which surprised Paul. Another step.

Could he do it? That was the real question? Could he ring the bell, say his name and go inside? Could he meet him? Look him in the eye and speak to him? Or would his voice fail him? Would all the words escape him and leave him, scared, lonely and vulnerable on the street? He took another step, but now he was too close and he had no other choice but to press the doorbell to the apartment with John’s name tag.

“Ello?”

Paul’s voice failed him. Like he had thought. He opened his mouth, knew what he wanted to say, but no sound left his mouth, but a slight high pitched cry of nerves.

“Hello?”

Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, bawling up his hands into fist by his side as he forced himself to calm down and fucking say something already.

“Mind letting in an old friend?” Paul finally said, his voice normal and seemingly relaxed- a skill he had acquired in his Beatle years. He opened his eyes again and let out a deep breath, feeling some of the tension fall away now he had spoken. It remained quiet on the other end of the line for a while. After some time Paul started to wonder if John had hung up on him, but just when he had wanted to leave, he heard a buzzer and a click. He felt the door, which opened for him easily. Paul sighed in relief. At least John hadn’t refused to see him. At least he was welcome. Or so he hoped.

          Paul took the elevator up. John was on the highest floor, allowing him to look over a large part of New York and Central Park. Paul snickered to himself as he remembered John had actually claimed he had seen a UFO with his girlfriend May. John had always been hopeful of anything existing that was either magical, mysterious, alien or simply abnormal. Just to make the horrible world they were living in a little bit better. If only for himself.

Paul had met May Pang, of course, when he had met up with John a few years back. She seemed like a lovely girl for John. Pretty but clever and supportive of his music and ideas. Much better than Yoko, but of course Paul wouldn’t tell John that. He was over her. He was over John. She didn’t matter any more. Not to him.

As if out of nowhere, Paul found himself before John’s door. He took another deep, calming breath, and raised his hand and knocked a few times in a quick session. It took awhile for John to open, but when he did Paul felt the urge to run away. He didn’t.

“Surprised?” He asked instead, smiling tentatively at his old friend. The first thing he noticed about John was not that he had lost weight again, or the dark circles beneath his eyes, or his sloppy clothing, or his surprised face, or how good his hair looked. No, surprisingly, it was that he had gotten a pair of new glasses. The same standard model, of course, that he had been wearing since 1967. But at that moment he couldn’t speak more than one word at the time, so he decided not to say anything.

“If you had called, I would have  made sure I had some food or something.” John said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, as he stepped aside to let Paul come in. “May isn’t in. To be frank, I have no clue where she is. Probably with friends or something.” John continued and Paul could feel his eyes digging into his back as he shrugged off his coat and took off his shoes. Just the knowledge that John was watching him so intensely made his fingers tremble, causing him to nearly drop the coat. He managed, though.

“Cup o’ tea?” John offered, walking past Paul and into the living area. Paul nodded and muttered a thanks as he followed him. John waved into the direction of the couch, so Paul took a seat. Once John had left the room to get the tea, he let out a deep sigh and a groan.

What had he been thinking, knocking on John’s door? He had  not promised himself he wouldn’t put himself through this again? But why should this be like that? Why couldn’t he just look at John, drink his tea and chat with him like old pals. Like before all that happened. When they had been innocent and young, playing their cheap guitars in John’s little bedroom and not even thinking about all that would happen once they would reach that fame they had so desired.

Yet, it was like that. It was awkward, nerve wracking, uneasy, with tension between them, electrifying the air. Unspoken words left between them. Words of love and hate. Words that came with these feelings that had been left unresolved. Words were burning on Paul’s lips, and he knew John felt them as well, burning into his skin, but neither were brave enough to utter them.

Paul looked around the room. It was better than that white, cold apartment he had been living in before. This was cosier, warmer, more like home. A scarf lay across the arm of a chair and Paul wondered if it belonged to May. She was clearly present throughout the room. Pictures on shelves, candles on the table, a rug beneath the coffee table, colourful pillows on the couch and large, cosy drapes before the windows. The walls were completely white again, but on the walls hung art. All kinds of art, most of them abstract and colourful. The couch was as white as the walls and so was the rug. It was a perfect mix. Paul felt out of place. As if he didn’t quite belong there.

“May told me to call you, actually. She said you were on tour.” John said, making Paul jump up slightly. He emerged from the kitchen, holding two large and steamy mugs of tea. Paul smiled thankfully when John handed him one and took a seat in one of the larger arm chair, which stood facing the couch on which Paul sat. He would rather have had, he had sat down besides him.

“I am, yeah. Wings.” Paul replied, unsure of what to say. He blew into his tea, before taken a careful sip, not wanting to burn his tongue. He was glad the note the tea wasn’t that hot anymore.

“How’s that going?” John asked, taking a sip himself and nodding as he swallowed.

“Good.” Paul answered. John nodded again. They simply stared at the white rug as they drank their tea in silence, neither men knowing what to say or how to act.

“How’s May doing?” Paul asked after some time, proud to have found something to talk about.

“Fine.” John replied. He took the last sip from his mug and put it down on the coffee table. Paul followed John’s example.

“How’s Linda?” John asked, and this time Paul nodded.

“Good.” He replied simply. John sighed and leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes on Paul and narrowing them, as if he was trying to read him.

“Pau? Why are you here?” John asked after some more silence. Paul swallowed thickly at the questions and started playing with his fingers in his lap, as he looked down to look away from John’s inquiring eyes.

“I just thought I’d come and say hi.” He said after a while, but John wouldn’t take that as an answer.

“Bullshit, Paul! Now, out with it: why are you here?” He spat at the younger man and Paul’s eyes went wider at the forcefulness behind John’s words and he felt his throat get drier and drier. He shrugged.

“Don’t act stupid, Paul.” John spat, but this time Paul wasn’t going to take that.

“I’m not! I don’t know why I came, alright? I was just going for a stroll and found myself here and now I’m drinking your fucking tea, while I should be with Lin and the kids. Hell, I shouldn’t do this to me, John. Do you have any idea how difficult you made these last five years?”

“You?” John asked, and Paul opened his mouth to say something, but John didn’t offer him the chance.“You have no idea how difficult I’ve had it, Paul. No idea!”

“You sure didn’t act like it!” Paul accused, and John merely laughed at him.

“Welcome to the word of fucking television, Macca! Every damn thing is a goddamn lie.”

“Like yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know  what it’s supposed to mean, John, dear. All too well.”

“Oh, I do, do I? I’m supposed to just know that you’re a needy little person who needs his mate to fuck him every once in awhile, so he feels loved, do I?”

“Fuck you, John! You’re a fucking liar. That’s what I’m talking about. You’re a fucking liar.” Paul accused and John fell silent at that. He opened his mouth, but closed it before he could say anything. Paul rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and was surprised to find his hand getting wet. Was he crying?

“You lie about everything, John! About yourself, about me. About the band. About Brian. About us. And it hurts, John. It hurts to see you pretend The Beatles didn’t mean anything to you. That I didn’t mean anything to you. B-because… You mean a lot to me.”

“Are you going soft now?” John asked with a nervous chuckle, but that quickly died when Paul looked up at him and met his eyes. He could see John was trying hard not to cry as well. His eyes were slightly wet and puffy, as if it was about to just release everything. Paul shook his head at him.

“Don’t try to cover this up, Lennon. Don’t do that. Please. I- I mean it. I care for you. I still do and I hate it and I hate you and just seeing you sitting there is killing me and I wish I could simply walk away and not look back at us anymore and forget for a while. But I can’t. Because they won’t let us. It’s us against them, John. It always was and still is and I’m fucking sick of it, but I can’t change it.”

“Paul-”

“I don’t know why I’m here. I know I didn’t mean to come here. And I know it wasn’t fate or anything like that. But it keeps happening and  I can’t do anything to stop it.” Paul finished, sighing deeply and running a hand through his hair. It remained silent for awhile, and Paul didn’t dare to look at John anymore. He hadn’t meant to say all that, but then, he hadn’t meant for a lot of things to happen the way they did.

“D-do you want to? Stop it?” John asked carefully and Paul’s breath hitched at the question. He opened his mouth to say yes, but his head had already shaken “no”, before he could say anything. And then John stood up. He looked taller than he had looked in years, and as he approached Paul, Paul shuffled further back into the couch. He had expected John to punch him. Or something at least. But he didn’t. Instead, he only sat down besides him.

“I should have listened to her, Macca. May. She told me. Always had.” John said and Paul looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he was saying. But he didn’t really care much. John was right there. Sitting besides him, his breath on Paul’s face as they shared the same air for the first time in almost six years again.

“We must stop this, John. We can’t. We never should have. This just isn’t meant for us. They will always take it away from us and we will let them do it.” Paul spoke, his voice almost a whisper and John nodded slowly as his eyes darted down to Paul’s lips.

“I will miss you.” He said and Paul smiled at that, the thought warming him from the inside out and before he realised what they were doing, he had his lips against John’s again, breathing air into his lungs as he licked at his teeth and let John suckle at his bottom lip. The feeling was at the same time so familiar, but also so strange and dreamlike. As if it wasn’t really happening. But this was happening and John was kissing him again, like before. With a surprising passion and skill that made Paul’s mind fuzzy as he tangled his fingers into John’s hair and pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together.

“Nothing ever lasts, does it Paulie?” John asked as they broke away to breath. Paul sighed and shook his head.

“Not for us.” He replied and kissed John again, urgently pulling at his lips with his teeth, as he pulled him into his lap, getting John to hum in that familiar way again. It was so familiar that it almost made Paul want to cry. Instead, he moved a hand down to the front of John’s trousers and started to jerk him off through his clothing. John groaned at that and breathed Paul’s name in that needy way, like he used to.

“I still love you.” John breathed as they broke their kiss, so John could look down as his hand found the zipper of Paul’s trousers and started to pull it down. Paul nearly gasped at those words, and didn’t say anything. He simply moaned when John’s fingers curled around the shaft of his dick and started to stroke him quickly, eagerly, but in a skilled manner, making just the right movements at the right times that made Paul quickly lose his grip on reality. His breathing grew heavy and began more and more difficult as John’s hand worked on getting him closer and closer in a rapid tempo. Paul’s own hand found its way into John’s trousers as well and followed the same rhythm, but with slightly different moves that he remembered got John worked up quickly.

Neither man lasted long. It had been so long and both had needed this so badly, they simply couldn’t hold back. But neither minded much. It felt good to return to the past. To relive all those times together once more. The sweet ones, the sad ones, the desperate ones, the angry ones, the drunken ones, the high ones, the passionate ones, the lustful ones, the hurtful ones- like this one. They all came together into that moment of passion and neither John nor Paul could do, or wanted to do, anything that would prolong it. With a quiet gasp, they both came, emptying themselves into each other’s trusty hands as they suckled on each other’s tongues.

“I don’t want you to go.” John whispered, his voice soft and gentle, but Paul shook his head and said what they both already knew.

“I have to.” And he did.

They called each other a few weeks later. Paul asked if John wanted to come over to  do spend some time together as he worked on his new album. John agreed, but both already knew he wasn’t going to come. “Maybe another time.” He had said in the phone and Paul nodded, before putting the phone down and walking away. And when they met up once more about a year later, they said their goodbyes and Paul walked away for good.


	6. Day 6. Trick Or Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo/George. Ringo convinces George to go trick-or-treating with him and sets it up as a secret date.

“Richie? Aren’t we perhaps… I don’t know… a little bit _old_ for this?” George asked his friend as he stared down at his costume doubtfully. Ringo stood bend over, his hands deep in his closet, searching for a bag they could use. Once he finally got what he wanted, he pulled back and turned to George was an excited grin on his face, handing George one of the two bags he had found. The younger man took it from him reluctantly and tried fixing his clothing a bit more. He felt awkward in his vampire costume and even though Ringo had told him he looked good, he wished he could just take it off, change into his regular clothing again and stay at home to watch a scary movie or something.

“Come on, George. It will be fun! Besides, in the end of the evening we’ll have two bags of sweets to eat together!” Ringo said. George supposed he was right. It would be fun to act like little kids again and go around the doors doing trick-or-treat. But what if people were going to laugh at them? Or would think they were creepy and call the cops on them?

“I don’t know… I mean, the sweets are great, you know, but what will other people think?”

“Who cares what other people think! Let them think! They’ll probably think it’s an English thing or something.” He tried, but he could see George still wasn’t convinced. He sighed and took a step close to him, stepping into his personal space. George’s breath hitched at that, still feeling rather nervous whenever the drummer would do such a thing.

“Geo, luv, we’ll have fun, I promise you. And if people will act all weird and all, we’ll just head home, watch a movie, laugh at the German language and eat the sweets we did manage to get, okay? I just… I just want us to have a fun time together. Just the two of us.” Ringo said, looking up at George and into his eyes as he spoke. George thought about it for a second, before sighing and nodding.

“Okay. Let’s go then, before all the kids have gone to bed already and people think we’re serial killers or something.” He said with a hesitant smile, but Ringo could see he was trying, and that was enough for him. He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on George’s cheek. He took his fingers into his hand and flashed him an encouraging smile, before turning around the walking to the front door. George went with him willingly, telling himself they were going to be fine and have fun.

          It was rather busy in the streets. They had gone to a somewhat more pleasant area of Hamburg where people lived with children, so they wouldn’t be left in front of a locked door and fit in a bit more. As it happened, they fitted in better than expected. Many children’s parents were also dressed up. Ringo and some man pointed at each other and laughed as saw they were both dressed up as Napoleon.

George had to atmit that Ringo made a rather attractive Napoleon, and couldn’t help but think Ringo should fight him and bring him down to his knees. This resulted in lots of staring of which both he and Ringo were well aware. But Ringo didn’t mind. Actually, he was rather flattered.

It was weird how comfortable Ringo already felt with the other man, even if they had only met each other earlier that same month and only played together a few times, before he had dared to ask him if he wanted to do something together for Halloween. Ringo was glad that he had, though, and judging by the other man’s shyness, it was obvious George was too.

He turned his head to look at him and gave him another encouraging smile, before nodding into the direction of a lovely decorated house where a couple of kids had just left with huge smiles on their faces, staring hungrily into their bags. George smiled back and gave a short nod himself, as he tried to calm himself and simply enjoy it.

He followed Ringo to the house, sneaking behind him and holding up his cloak to shield himself from the eyes of curious kids as well as the cold. Because, damn it was cold. Why couldn’t Halloween be in spring or summer or something? When it is normal to go outside without a coat on and not freeze to death! But then, it wouldn’t be as creepy, would it?

Still, he tried to put on a friendly face for the kids, but when he saw two boys of about eight staring at him with huge eyes, their fingers grasping the other’s costume tightly, he just couldn’t resist. He focussed his eyes on them and glared at them intensely. Already, they took a step back, nervous and slightly scared expressions on their faces. George raised his cloak with his arm to his face and slowly stepped closer, building up anticipation, until he was near enough. The two boys were still staring at him, and George took one last step towards them, as he lowered his cloak and started hissing at them, baring his fake fangs and widening his eyes. The boys cried out and quickly hurried away, calling out for their mother and father, who were trying to hold back their own laughter at what had just happened. George himself laughed too, as he watched the boys run away, never looking back. When he turned back, Ringo was shaking his head in disapproval, but George could see the little smirk on his face.

“Don’t you try to deny it,” George warned, mimicking the same smirk, “You and I both know that you thought it was funny.”

“You’re evil.” Ringo replied, and the younger man merely shrugged at that.

“I’m not a vampire for nothing, Richie. Now, let’s get us some of those delicious sweets you were talking about. All that being scary made me really hungry.” He said and Ringo laughed, but nodded and started walking up to the house.

“For some reason, I think you’re always hungry.” He said, and George didn’t say  anything back, figuring he was probably right.

          Ringo felt his nerves get worse and worse as he walked towards the house. He had liked the idea of going trick-or-treating again, but now that he was actually going to do it, he realised how George must have felt about the whole thing when he had first asked him. As always, Ringo’s enthusiasm had made him blind to the fact that it would be really weird to have two young men of seventeen and twenty come up to your house and ask for sweets. However, there was no going back now. He had finally managed to convince George to come along and he wasn’t going to ruin his “date” (as he’d like to think of it) by chickening out at the last second.

Once he finally reached the door, he lifted his hand, which felt oddly heavy at that moment, and knocked hard. He looked back at George again as they waited. The younger man looked as nervous as he. Luckily, they had seemed to pick a good house. A woman of about forty opened the door, and started laughing as Ringo and George called out: “Trick or treat!” and raised their bags.

“We couldn’t find any lanterns.” George added with an apologetic smile in German and Ringo was surprised at how quickly he was getting used to the foreign language. He started to understand what people were actually saying more and more. Not that he could say anything in return, but he had George to do that for him now.

“Oh, aren’t you two boys lovely. And very nice costumes, too! Oh, I’m sorry. I just hadn’t expected any young men on my doorstep.” The woman spoke and George and Ringo smiled at her, both relieved she wasn’t actually freaked out, but rather amused by them. “And if I hear correctly, you’re English, too. Here, have two each.” She added as she inspected them with kind smile. George thanked her and Ringo awkwardly repeated what he had said. The woman merely smiled and offered them the bowl filled to the brink with sweets. They took two each and dropped them in their bags. Two down, another hundred or something to go!

          They both muttered another “thank you” and the woman wished them luck, before closing the door. Ringo and George walked back to the road, grinning to each other all the while.

“I told you we would get sweets! And that was fun.” Ringo said and George nodded with a hum, a genuine smile on his face, his eyes already darting around in search for the next house. His eyes had started to glisten excitedly and the older man found it hard to look away, but managed to do it anyway.

“There! Let’s go over there! Where all those kids are! They must give good sweet to have that many people around.” George said, pointing at the house across the street, where a few kids were standing before the gate to the house, talking to each in hushed voices, their hands moving animately. Ringo grinned, knowing exactly what George meant and nodded determinedly.

Now they had done one house, he felt a lot more calm and confident and he supposed George felt the same way, considering how excited he seemed. They moved over to their new target and waited patiently for the other kids to leave. They looked around the street to plan which houses they were going to do and which ones they weren’t. And in which order of course. A detail often overlooked, but very important if you want to get the most sweets.

Once the other kids had left, they moved up to the house and knocked gently at the door, snickering to themselves all the while, still feeling nervous, but a good kind of nervous. This time it took a while before someone answered.

“Trick or Treat!” George and Ringo exclaimed as the door swung open. As soon as the adult behind the door noticed they were dressed up and wanted sweets, he started to laugh and speak in a very rapid way that was hardly understandable. The two boys just smiled politely and nodded at times when they thought they needed to. As it happened they did rather well, and soon they were offered sweets for the second time that evening. George and Ringo both started to like the holiday more and more.

          “Shit!” George exclaimed after quite a while as they counted their profit and made plans for the coming and probably last hour. Ringo looked up at him, quickly swallowing a piece of his candy that he had taken as a reward for doing so well.

“What?” He asked, confused about what could possibly have gone wrong. They were actually doing really well. People seemed to like them very much, laughing whenever they opened the door and saw them standing there. They would talk to them a little and compliment them for their courage or jokingly scold them for stealing the sweets from the kids who were supposed to get them. Only twice had someone been mad at them, but really, that had been hilarious and totally worth it. Even the children seemed to like it that they did this, staring at them or asking them to come along with them. Overall they had been having a great time, which showed through the heaviness of their bags.

“We have to go home.” George said, looking rather panicky. Ringo frowned at that and shuffled a little closer to George, wondering what was wrong.

“Why? What is it?” He asked, his voice soft and caring, “Are you alright?”

“No. I mean… I’m fine it’s just… my bag is nearly full and all these sweets are making me very hungry and I kind of just want to sit down, watch scary movie and eat them all. I don’t know if I can go on much longer, without sitting down on the curb to eat them all.” George explained, looking very serious indeed and Ringo couldn’t contain his laughter. The younger man glared at him and slapped his shoulder rather painfully.

“It’s not funny! I’m serious.” He told him, but that only made Ringo laugh even more. He had to laugh so hard, he had trouble breathing and he felt tears well up in his eyes. George pouted, crossed his arms before his chest and turned slightly away from the other man. Ringo tried to let his laughter die down and laid a hand on George’s arm.

“Oh, come on, then. We’ve got enough anyway. Let’s go home, yeah?” He asked sweetly, still chuckling, but George nodded, a smile appearing on his face.

“Okay.” He said, picking up his heavy bag. As he waited for Ringo to pick up his own back, he quickly unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth to suckle on the way back. When Ringo looked back at him, to ask if he was ready to go, he chuckled again and took George’s arm in his.

“You’re really adorable at time, you know that?” He asked softly as they started walking. George shrugged.

“It’s because I’m a vampire. We need to suck blood and it’s been too long, so I have to settle for a lollipop instead.” He explained. The words came out a bit awkward, as he didn’t remove the lollipop first. Ringo snickered and moved them to a less busy street, wanting to be a bit more private with George as they walked home.

“You know…” he said as he was sure no one was near enough to hear them in case they spoke or understood English, “If you really need to suck something, I’ve got something you can suck at home.” He wiggled his eyebrows at George, who frowned at him. Once he finally realised what Ringo was suggesting, his cheeks flushed red and he immediately looked down shyly as he giggled into his hand, like a naughty schoolboy.

“L-let’s see how things… er…  go first, yeah? I’m not as easy as you might think.” He replied, trying to sound sure of himself, but he stumbled nervously over a few words and giggled again as the words had left his mouth. Oh, why couldn’t he be more like John. He was the best in making dirty jokes and stuff.

“I’m Napoleon. I’ll just behead you if you don’t.” Ringo replied with a smirk, making George laugh.

“If you can reach that high.” He joked, and grunted as Ringo nudged his side with his elbow.

“I can always grab a stool to stand on. I’ll just tie you up first.” He said with a wink, and both man giggled all the way home, sharing sweets when George finished his lollipop.


	7. Day 7. For Safekeeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John/Paul. Paul comes home late in the evening at Halloween and John scares him, before tying him down to the bed to do dirty, wicked things to him.

Paul hummed a happy tune as he unlocked his front door. Martha gave a few soft barks at the sound of keys rattling and knocking against the door and the door unlocking. Carefully, Paul pushed the door open and quickly shuffled inside, not wanting Martha to come jumping out and knock him over, before running out into the street. Martha jumped at her owner as she saw him and started licking at his hands and trying to reach his face, but she was still too little to reach him. Paul laughed and the ticklish feeling of her licking him, and nudged the door shut with his foot, before going down onto his knees to greet her properly.

“Hey, girl. Did you miss me?” He asked, chuckling as he petted her head and ran his fingers through her fur. Her tail wagged excitedly at his words and she jumped up against him, landing with her paws on his thighs. Now, being high enough, she started to lick his face.

“Haha. Alright, dear. Calm down. I’m home now. Daddy is home.” He laughed, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head, before getting to his feet. He rubbed her behind her ear one last time, before sliding off his coat and taking off his shoes. Martha waited patiently for her owner, and followed him into the kitchen, where she knew she would get a snack. She always did.

Paul reached into the fridge and got out a some leftover sausages. Martha circled him excitedly and sniffed the air, obviously eager for her treat. Paul smiled at her and gave her one, before putting the others back in the fridge. When he turned back around, Martha had curled up in her special corner in the kitchen and was happily eating her sausage. Paul patted her head one last time. He let out a loud yawn and stretched out his body.

“I’m off to bed, okay, luv? Please don’t chew at the chairs again, alright?” He told her and Martha looked up at him, her tongue hanging from her mouth, as if she understood him. Paul flicked off the lights and stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom. It had been a tiring day, but then perhaps he shouldn’t have stayed at the art gallery for so long. But it had been really interesting and he had met so many intriguing people. He really should take John with him some time. He’d like it too, he knew.

          Paul headed straight to his bedroom. Jane was out again. Some modelling job and Paul was really missing her now he didn’t have The Beatles to keep him busy. He opened the door to his bedroom and switched on the lights. Almost right after the room was flooded with light, it was dark again. The light flickered on and off in quick succession for a few seconds, before Paul heard a pang and it was dark again. He grumbled a few heated curses at the lights, and turned it off properly, before reaching into a drawer to get some candles (Jane liked them). He lit a few and placed the around the room, giving it a mysterious, warm, but dim glow. Paul sighed and figured it would have to do. He’d search for another light bulb in the morning. He had better things to do right now.

He took off the light brown jacket and black tie he had been wearing and he draped both over the back of a desk chair. Gratefully that he had a sink in the bedroom, he washed his face off Martha’s gross spit and dried his face with a soft towel. Immediately he felt better. He studied his face in the mirror and fixed the slightly damp hair in front of his eyes, before he started to work on taking off his shirt. He fumbled with the buttons lazily as he stumbled across the room to a bookshelf near his closet. He studied their titles, searching for something interesting to read now that he had the time as he popped open button after button.

When a book caught his eye (Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, because why not), he reached for it, but before his fingers had even touched the book, he saw the door of his closet moving in the corner of his eye. Frowning, he turned his head to look at it a bit better. The door wasn’t moving anymore, but he did notice it was slightly ajar, which he was almost certain it hadn’t been before. He let go off his half unbuttoned shirt and slowly reached for the door of his closet. Telling himself not to be a baby and just open the damn thing, because monsters didn’t exist anyway, Paul sighed deeply and closed his hand around the doorknob and pulled it open violently.

Immediately he screeched as he saw a dark figure standing between his clothes, staring at him with blood red eyes. He was smiling from ear to ear, baring his long white fangs and blood red lips. The figure looked terrifying and Paul’s heart was beating rapidly in his throat, almost jumping out of it, and Paul knew he should be running as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t move. He was nailed to the ground and when the figure took a step towards him, he could only scream louder. A gloved hand captured his mouth to shut him up.

“Don’t make a sound if you wish to live, my fair man.” A dark and slightly amused voice sounded, an uncharacteristic lightness in his voice. Paul frowned, but nodded anyway, not wishing to die quite yet. His eyes went wide and he muttered a “you?!”, which was muffled against the figure’s hand, when the dark figure emerged from his closet, wearing a very familiar grin. His almond-shaped eyes sparkled mischievously. Annoyed, Paul grabbed the other man’s wrist tightly and snatched it away from his face.

“For fuck sake’s, Lennon! You scared me half to death, you did!” Paul cried out, sounding rather aggravated, but John only smirked at him with a playful wink.

“Sorry, luv. Couldn’t resist.” He told him and Paul rolled his eyes at him and turned away from him angrily.

“Arsehole.” He snapped at him, but John merely laughed at that. Paul could hear him step close to him. His body didn’t jerk as he felt John’s hand on his shoulder and the back of his neck, caressing him sweetly, almost begging him not to be angry with him.

“Come on, darling. I was only joking. Now, what do you think of my costume? Pretty fab, eh? Some bird from America sended it to me.” John said softly into Paul’s ear. The younger man turned to him with a frown on his face as he studied John’s attire with a doubtful look on his face. When he started biting his lip and looking up at John through his eyelashes, John knew what was occupying his pretty head. They had always had that special connection.

“And yes, I did let Brian check it in case she wanted to kill me.” He reassured Paul with a roll of his eyes, making Paul scoff, “Now, don’t tell me this costume isn’t making you hard?” John smirked cheekily at Paul, who had already turned back around and had tugged himself loose from John’s grip.

“It doesn’t.” He answered curtly, and this time John scoffed.

“Sure, Macca. As if these sharp, pointy teeth and dark, velvety cloak don’t make you want to part those sexy legs of yours for me, sweetheart. I know you want me.” John said, creeping up to Paul and taking a hold of his arms, as he pressed himself up against Paul’s backside. The younger man let out an involuntary gasp at that, but didn’t try to pull away.

“Not really. Why would it?” He asked instead, but his voice was already faltering and John knew he had him.

“Because the idea of me drinking your blood and taking you as if you were my prey totally turns you on.” He whispered hotly into Paul’s ear and the younger boy laughed at his words, but felt his cock twitch nonetheless.

“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed, and John chuckled as he moved one hand quickly down to cup Paul through his trousers. The younger man was already hard beneath his hand and his legs trembled as they tried their best to keep him up. When John gave him a little squeeze, he leaned back into him and let out a breathy sigh. Swiftly, John turned Paul around and pressed his lips firmly against his, making Paul whine in both surprise and want.

A firm hand clasped around his shoulder and when John started to push him backwards towards the bed, he went with him willingly. He didn’t care about how ridiculous this was, letting John have sex with him while wearing a vampire costume, but he had admit he looked rather stunning, with his thigh black pants and tight white shirt with well-fitted wine red waistcoat. He had his hair combed back for a as far as that was possible and wore his thick-rimmed glasses, which always did things to Paul he didn’t want to admit.

When his legs hit the back, he tumbled down onto the bed with a giggle and watched as John pressed his body back into the mattress. Paul let himself be moved around, and when John grabbed him by his waist and hoisted him up higher, he tried to move with him to make it a bit more easy. Once he was laying all the way on the bed with his head on his pillow, he grinned up at John, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

“What are you going to do, John? Drink me?” He asked, licking filthily along his upper teeth as he held eye contact with him. He managed to get John to groan wantonly at that, and feeling brave, he moved his left hand to his trousers, wanting to give John a bit of a show. However, John seemed to have a very different idea. He grabbed Paul’s wrists in one hand and lifted them up to the headboard, where he held him very tightly. Paul squirmed playfully beneath him and he continued to watch him, curious to figure out what John was planning to do. He breath caught in his throat when John loosened his own tie and started wrapping it around his wrists, tying them together. He held still for him, but when John let go of his hands, he tugged a few times, only tightening the bonds in the process. John snickered as he admired his work, his fingertips following his eyes only half a second behind. When his eyes landed on Paul’s lips, his fingers stopped moving, hovering about half an inch before his mouth.

“One word, and I’ll gag you.” He said and Paul nodded immediately, causing John to smile broadly as he let his hands lower to Paul’s chest to undo the last of his buttons. Paul kept his word and didn’t say anything as John worked on his clothing, watching him intensely and licking his lips as he took in the sight of him. Once he got the shirt loose enough, he leaned down to lick at Paul’s nipples a few times easily. The younger man merely whimpered beneath him and kept his hands and vocal cords still. John’s hands moved down all the while as he worked, halting only briefly when he reached his trousers, before undoing those, too, and pulling them down. Paul lifted up his legs to help him, and whimpered again when John pulled back to take them off completely.

“So wanton.” John noted at Paul’s behaviour and this time Paul chuckled again, before replying.

“Always for you, darling. You know that. Now, get on with it before I fall asleep.” He told him, but John didn’t seem to mind the words, keeping Paul ungagged as he threw Paul’s trousers onto the ground and started to take on his own clothes as he caressed Paul’s milky thighs. The bassist moaned at the feeling and relaxed beneath him, letting them fall apart to present himself to John.

“Such a good boy, Macca. Don’t worry, I’m going to take you as I drink your blood from your neck, mark you as mine.” John breathed and Paul tried not to chuckle at the words, as his cock twitched again with interest. John’s calloused hands found his knees and gently pushed them apart, creating the perfect space to fit John between. Paul arched his back as John took his place and moved his hands up Paul’s body, pausing at his nipples to play with them some more, enjoying the pretty sight Paul made when he did that.

          John didn’t want to waste any more time, and the bassist seemed to agree with him, parting his legs even wider for John as the older man started to crawl between them, and hooking his ankles together in the small of John’s back, pressing him forward.

“P-please…” He stumbled and John nodded as he eyed the small container of lube on the night stand. He moved the both of them slightly to the right so he could pick it up.

“I’m here, luv. Gonna make it good for you, my dear princess.” John cooed and Paul nodded eagerly as he chanted his hips up, begging John for more, which John gave him. He squirted some of the cold liquid on his fingers,  wetting them, before moving a hand between Paul’s legs to his twitching hole, eager to have anything shoved up inside there. John groaned at the sight and had to keep himself from taking Paul right then and there. He lightly brushed the rim of Paul’s hole, earning himself a surprised gasp and an eager moan. He did it again, this time rotating his finger around the rim and wetting it as Paul twitched on the bed, needing more than just John’s finger there.

When John finally decided he’d had enough, he let his finger slide in, pushing against the walls and opening Paul up. Paul muttered something unintelligently, but John decided to let it slip, enjoying this too much to stop to find a proper gag. When Paul started to press back, he added another figure, before doing it again. Paul let out a shaky breath and his legs contracted around John’s waist, asking him for more. John, eager to get inside the other man, nodded and leaned down to give Paul a bruising kiss as he retreated his fingers and pulled out his cock of his extremely tight, and rather uncomfortable trousers. He lubed himself up and gave himself a few hard strokes, before lining himself up with Paul’s hole. He nudged it playfully, earning himself an eager gasp, before slowly sliding in, marveling at the sight of Paul taking him so perfectly. He leaned down again and started nibbling at Paul’s neck as he slowly fucked into him, hinting at the actual biting.

The younger man opened up beautifully for him, allowing him entrance as he pursed his lips in the want of a kiss. John indulged him, kissing him again and moaning into his name as he suckled on his tongue. Paul let it all happen, only trying to breath properly and comply.

John moved swiftly and urgently, but thoroughly. Paul was clamping down painfully around him, his fingers twitching with the want to pull at John’s hair, as he helped him move with his legs. It felt really good and John felt the pleasure take over. He had been hard ever since he had slipped inside Paul’s closet about an hour ago, forcing himself to wait for the younger now, whose insides were practically milking him dry.

“Paulie…” he moaned, suckling at the pulsepoint in his neck and earning himself a wanton, but weak moan, “Come on, luv. Come for me, darling.” He urged him on, snapping his hips forward and fucking into Paul almost desperately as he felt his orgasm approach, his balls tightening. Paul whines and nodded quickly, lifting his hips off the bed and moving back against John, meeting his thrust as he tugged at the binds. His cock lay heavy and dripping on his belly, and angry red, and John took pity on him and wrapped his fingers around the shaft. He started stroking him in time with his thrust, getting Paul to cry out his name, making John head swim as he tried to keep his own orgasm at bay a little while longer.

Luckily, Paul was almost as far done as he was and with one firm thrust upwards with his hips, he came, coating John’s fingers with his cum and clamping down around John even harder as he muttered his name. The feeling and sight of Paul cumming got John over the edge as well and he snapped his hips forward, pushing himself all the way inside the younger man as he grabbed his shoulders tightly and came hard, filling Paul up and making him whimper at the feeling of cum shooting inside him.

             At last, John finally came down from his high and pulled out, Paul swore softly, his arse sore. The older man chuckled at his discomfort and leaned down to kiss him, licking into his mouth and suckling at his tongue as his hands started to undo the tie around Paul’s wrist. The boy sighed into his mouth as he was released and immediately his fingers found their way into his hair.

“Hmmm… That was good, Johnny.” Paul muttered once their kiss broke and John buried his face into Paul’s neck again, sucking an angry mark there, before rolling off him and taking him into his arms. Paul curled up against him and placed cute kisses along John’s jaw and collarbone.

“Shh… Just go to sleep now, luv. Let Johnny watch over you and keep you safe.” John muttered back, kissing Paul’s forehead and sighing. Paul yawned and nodded, nuzzling his nose into John’s chest and humming contently.

“Thank you, Johnny. My own vampire to keep me safe. What else could a boy want?” He mumbled back, and before John had stopped chuckling at his words, the younger man had already drifted into a deep sleep, his breathing coming slow and regular, his breath ghosting over John’s nipple.

“I love you, Paul.” John whispered almost soundlessly, before closing his eyes as well and following Paul into a deep and fuzzy sleep, his fingers holding onto Paul tightly throughout the night, not even letting go when Paul woke up that following morning, a happy grin on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was graciously imported from tumblr by [CJD](https://chut-je-dors.tumblr.com/) who is a good friend and overall pretty amazing. Suck it, Puck


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